The Dandelion

I just happened to look out the back door at the right moment and there she was, eighteen-month-old Rachel Eugénie squatting down on her little legs examining a bright, yellow dandelion. She stared at it for several moments giving it her solemn attention. Then she touched it with delicate gentleness, evidently to see how it would react.

Suddenly she plucked it and sprang to her feet. Raising her arms in the air, she started to run. Her sunny curls bounced freely as she continued her adventure. Our black poodle, Peanut, started after her.

Rachel squeals with delight when pursued, and now that she thought Peanut wanted her prize it became even more wonderful to her. But Peanut soon lost interest and Rachel slowed her merry jog. Her sights landed on three-month-old Erin sitting in an infant seat absorbing the sun. Rachel ran to share her treasure.

Erin was receptive to her sister's attention, and Rachel pushed the yellow glow into her face. Then she pulled it away and held it up in the air. Both girls looked at the wilting weed no less enthused because of its drooping neck. Rachel's laughter filled the summer afternoon and I heard it joined by approving noises from Erin.

I watched, fascinated by their honest delight at one of God's simplest baubles. To receive much from so little! Then the thought came to me: the dandelion was not a small item to them. It filled spirit and mind with pleasure.

The scene became a lesson to be recalled. I too should attempt to be as thrilled and elated with sweet life as were my two astute teachers. They surely see what is beautiful in God's world.

Originally published in Light and Life Magazine, Nov. 6, 1979.